I Was Too Busy to Remember My Own Life
Learning to Reclaim Your Life by Slowing Down and Being Present
For years, I tried to outrun time. I packed my days so full that I barely had a second to breathe. I thought if I just stayed busy enough, I wouldn't notice how fast everything was moving. Maybe I could somehow avoid forgetting things if I just kept going.
Turns out, all that rushing around did the exact opposite. My days started blending together. Weeks disappeared. I couldn't remember half of what I'd done because I wasn't really there for any of it. I was just going through the motions, already thinking about the next thing on my to-do list.
Why I Couldn't Stop
Sitting still felt wrong. Taking a break felt lazy. Whenever I wasn't actively doing something, I'd get this guilty feeling, like I should be working on something, anything. Who was I to just... stop?
But honestly? I think I was scared. If I slowed down, I'd have to face how much time had already gone by. How much I'd missed while I was busy being "productive."
The Thing That Changed Everything
Scrapbooking is what finally made me stop and breathe.
I'd been curious about it for a while, liked the idea of preserving memories in a tangible way, but I didn't realize just how much it would change things. I sat down to make one page, just one memory I didn't want to lose, and three hours flew by. When I looked up, I felt... different. Those three hours didn't feel wasted. They felt like I'd actually taken back some control.
Scrapbooking makes you sit with a memory long enough to really feel it again. You're not just scrolling past a photo. You're remembering what the weather was like, what someone said right before you took the picture, how you felt in that exact moment. You pick colors that match the mood, write down the little details, arrange everything until it feels right.
Each page takes about three hours. Those three hours ground me. They force me to slow down, to actually savor things instead of racing past them. They help me stop worrying about forgetting because I'm proving to myself that I was really there.
What I Didn't Expect
Here's the part that surprised me: slowing down didn't make me lose more time. It helped me hold onto it better. My memories got clearer, more vivid. They stopped disappearing into the chaos of an overpacked schedule.
The creative part itself became calming. Picking patterns, arranging layouts, writing little captions, it all became a way to just... be present. Each page reminded me that my life isn't just a checklist of things I've accomplished. It's a bunch of moments that actually matter.
I started journaling too. Both practices helped quiet that anxious voice that kept me running on overdrive. Instead of trying to escape time, I learned to just live in it. Instead of cramming every hour full so I wouldn't feel it passing, I made room to appreciate it.
What Actually Changed
A lot, honestly.
That constant background anxiety got quieter. The feeling that time was slipping through my fingers eased up a bit. I sleep better most nights. I feel more like myself. I can actually remember what happened last week without immediately reaching for my calendar.
And get this, I didn't become less productive. If anything, I'm more productive now. Resting actually makes me sharper. The creative time recharges me. Slowing down improved my work in ways that constant hustle never did.
But the biggest change was internal. I feel like I found myself again. The version of me who can just sit without feeling guilty about it. Who can be present without already planning five steps ahead. Who gets that a good life isn't about how much you get done—it's about how deeply you experience the moments you're in.
If This Sounds Familiar
If you're exhausted from constantly running but scared to stop, I get it. I really do.
Here's what I wish someone had told me earlier:
Slowing down isn't the same as failing. It's not weakness. It's actually coming back to yourself.
You don't have to scrapbook specifically. But find something that gives you those three hours. Something that lets you reclaim time instead of just watching it disappear.
Because time's going to pass either way. The only real question is whether you're actually present for it—whether you'll remember it and let it mean something.
Slowing down didn't take anything from me.
It gave me my life back.
